Don't Go
by Moony44
Summary: He always knew she'd find him again at the bridge. “Yes. We have to do this today. Tonight. Right now.” What she couldn’t say he understood. There would never be a night like this again.


This is set after the seasons. Rory goes to find Jess one last time. There's lots of room for imagination in this one. And this is a little bit more PG-13 than my other stories.

--

He took a drag from his cigarette and exhaled, observing the faint patterns the smoke made in the night sky. He closed his eyes and felt his body loosen up.

"Jess."

He knew that voice. The voice he had heard say his name so many times. Yet this time, it sounded different on her tongue.

"Jess, please."

The voice was softer, too soft. The crisp air suddenly felt too loud, the silence ringing in his ears.

"Yeah?" He answered, his voice cracking quietly. He looked down at his feet, hanging off the edge of the bridge. Subconsciously, he knew she would find him here. He suddenly felt embarrassed and ashamed, as if he was up to no good with someone he wanted to impress.

"Still haven't quit the damn habit," he croaked, referring to the item in his right hand. He could feel her nod her head. He threw the cigarette on the bridge and got up to smash it into the wood.

"I'll leave." He could feel his eyes prick with unshed tears, but angrily shook his head. He didn't want to cry. Not here. Not in front of her.

The only sound that was heard was crickets chirping, the water of the lake lightly rippling, and the rustle of Jess's jeans as he turned to leave.

"Don't go." It was barely above a whisper, but he was sure he heard correctly.

"What?" He steadily revolved around to face her. A big part of him wanted her to repeat what she had just said. To make sure it was real. All of it.

"I -," she swallowed thickly. He could see the shine of the moonlight in her eyes as they glimmered with tears. "I don't want you to go. Please, Jess. Don't go."

Her voice broke on the last syllable. She wrung her hands together childishly, looking out over the water. And that was when he took it all in. Her tears as they dropped on the musty wood of the bridge, her sapphire dress that looked painfully similar to the one she had worn at a wedding a few years back, the way her dark chestnut hair seemed to rest on her shoulders with effortless grace, her icy blue eyes that were anything but cold, her smooth, flawless hands, then to her left arm; the arm that was left broken long ago because of him. She was here and she was his.

"Rory," he murmured. She blinked up, her wet eyes focusing on him. He tentatively strode over to her. She took a sharp intake of breath, holding back a sob.

"Rory," he repeated softly, pulling her into his chest. She clung to him desperately, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, her tears soaking through the fabric and onto his skin. He still smelt faintly of cigarette smoke, which Rory didn't mind one bit. He leaned down to rest his chin on top of her head, enveloping her in his arms. He could feel her shaking underneath him and he tightened his grip.

She pulled away suddenly, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt.

"Hey, hey," he whispered, concerned. "What are you doing?"

She put a finger over his lips to silence him. He watched as she undid all the buttons on his shirt and slid it off his torso. She shakily lowered her hand to the waist of his pants and then dropped it.

He understood and unbuttoned his dark jeans, slipping them off his legs, leaving him in only his boxers.

"Could you help me with this?" she breathed, turning around so her back was facing him. She motioned one hand to the zipper on her dress and glanced at him, biting her lip to see how he would respond.

He nodded at her, confusion etched in his face. He leisurely pulled the zipper down and untied the small ribbon at the back. She turned back around to face him, hesitation in her eyes.

"It's okay," he reassured her softly, "I'll look away if you want."

"No," she said quickly, "Don't." He swallowed the nervous lump that had formed in his throat and gazed at her.

She let her dress fall to her ankles, leaving her in only her undergarments. Jess's heart suddenly sped up like a hummingbird's. He was sure the passion was evident; that fire burned in his eyes. He had never wanted her more. He cleared his throat audibly and took a step closer. She put up her hands.

"Jess," she muttered faintly, "It's not what ... I mean to say, it's not what you think it is."

A minute passed where all that they did was stare. Rory fidgeted noticeably.

"I mean not like I wouldn't like to -" she started, as Jess cut her off.

"No, I know. I get it," he said, disappointment cleverly hidden in his voice.

"I just," she sighed, seeming frustrated at herself for some reason. "I just want to swim in the lake."

She paused, looking up at him with questioning eyes. "Is that okay?" She looked so lost that in that moment, he could do nothing but nod his head. A slight breeze rustled the end of summer leaves and Rory shivered.

"We don't have to do this today, you know?" he suggested and put a faltering hand on her upper arm. She shook her head fervently and grabbed his hand to clasp it firmly.

"Yes. We have to do this today. Tonight. Right now." Her voice quivered a bit and he squeezed her hand in return. What she couldn't say he understood. There would never be a night like this again. The time was now.

They walked over to the edge of the bridge together and looked over, leaving their heaps of clothes behind. Their pale bodies seemed all the more bright with the moon shining. He could hear her breathing quicken and he wanted so much to pull her into his arms.

"You sure?" he asked, never breaking his hold on her hand. There was something about this moment that made it feel like it was so much more than jumping in a small lake. They both knew it was bigger than that. Bigger than them. It was another step. In which direction, they did not know.

She bowed her head once. "Jess?"

"Yeah, Rory?"

"I'm in love with you."

And, as if by some unspoken countdown, they both leaped into the lake, leaving their old shells behind.

--

That's it. Should I continue it as a twoshot? Because I a couple ideas for that, but then I like it again as a oneshot.


End file.
